


Beliefs and Denials

by justhuman



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/F, F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-30
Updated: 2003-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhuman/pseuds/justhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilah/Dru with some Lilah/Wes and some imagined Wes/Justine -- this part is where the rape/non-con warning applies.</p><p>Set between <em>Lullaby</em> and <em>Apocalypse Nowish</em>, with reference to future events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beliefs and Denials

Lilah doesn't believe. Not in anything, not in anyone, not in what she hears or what she's promised; that is not in anything except in Lilah. She concedes that she may not always be completely honest with herself in all things. Things like how she feels about Wesley. Things like not being jealous, in some twisted way, of a woman chained in a closet. Neither is she hurt because he keeps that closet like the dark secret, not sharing. No, Lilah is a self-reliant individual, and Wesley is just a convenient fuck. She doesn't need to know what he does in his spare time.

When she comes home to her own apartment, there are no petty vengeful thoughts in her mind. When Lilah enters the spare room, there are no random visions, and certainly nothing as tawdry as a fantasy about what he does to the woman in the closet. When her hand grabs Drusilla's jaw, it is about getting her to stop singing and to pay attention.

"You're angry with him." Drusilla laughs and swipes her tongue against Lilah's finger. Lilah, well practiced in the art of denial, runs a hard thumb along Drusilla's jaw and gives the chained woman a smile.

"Angel? I'm not sure that I'm really angry with him, but he's important; I need to find him. Come on, Dru. I had my people bring you in because you're my best bet." For finding him without Gavin or Linwood getting in my way, Lilah thinks but doesn't add.

"Not Angel." Dru's smile is wicked in that way only the truly evil or the truly innocent can make it. Dru is both at once. "You smell like him. You always smell like him, salt and sex; all musky and sated like the cat in cream." As she speaks, Dru stretches languorously, rattling the chains that attach her wrists to the steel beam above. "Let me out to play?" Her expression is again innocent.

Lilah doesn't believe that either.

"Just tell me where to find Angel, and I'll be happy to let you go. I'll even arrange some mayhem for you." Lilah steps back, pulling off her heels.

A pout fills Drusilla's face. "The chains hurt." Lilah starts a little as vampire strength is applied to the iron restraints.

"Drusilla! We've been at this for a week. Start giving me some information about Angel, or I'll be vacuuming you off the floor very soon."

"I don't know where Daddy is! You should ask little brother; he knows!" Lilah holds back an angry retort and gives Drusilla an appraising look.

"Connor? He's Angel's son, your *little brother*." Drusilla growls in frustration. Careful to keep a safe distance, Lilah takes a step closer to the thrashing woman. "It's Connor you mean, isn't it?"

"Hssst! Don't say his name. Little ferret bites like Darla and claws like Angelus. He hunts us, all the pretty snakes. Better be careful. He won't about that soft skin of yours. Everyone will be fascinated with your throat." A look of lust and maybe hunger fills Drusilla's face as she calms, resting her head against her arm, a dreamy expression on her face.

There is much about the wine cellar that Lilah has tried to forget. After breaking her arm, Drusilla licked Lilah's neck for what felt like hours.

Whispering, Lilah runs caressing fingers down the ivory cheek. "Then we better keep quiet about him. If we're quiet, can you hear Angel?" Drusilla closes her eyes and begin to sway gently on the chains while Lilah lays light touches on her cheeks and bare arms.

"He dreams to the music of the waves. So cold. So dark." Drusilla whimpers. "Bad Daddy. He wants them all with all their mortal warmth. The other brother seeks him out."

"Shhh," Lilah soothes. "Other brother?"

Drusilla's eyes are bright. "You know him. He makes you forget who you are, what you are."

Denial etches Lilah's body as she withdraws her hand. "Wesley isn't Angel's son, and he isn't a vampire."

The laughter mingles with the gentle rhythm of the chains as Drusilla rocks. "He has no more soul than me...*or you*." Drusilla begins to sing what Lilah perceives is an sea shanty. None of this tells Lilah where Angel is. It only makes Lilah think of Wesley's soulless adventures with women and closets and how the bastard has been keeping secrets about searching for Angel.

"That's why grandmummy spared you in the pretty tomb, and oh what lovely wine, so red and hot." The reminder of their shared past pulls Lilah back to the present.

"Dru, tell me about Angel." Lilah's manicured nails lightly scratch behind Dru's ear before stroking the thin, pale column of Dru's neck and collarbone through the fine silk of her blouse.

Leaning into the hand, Drusilla is distressed again. "I was his princess; why doesn't he dream of me? The Angel-beast is so cruel; I want my daddy back."

"That's men for you, Dru. They take what they want from you and then move onto the next shiny toy." Lilah pushes thoughts of Wesley out of her mind. "We should find him and punish him, Dru."

There is delicate laughter. "He's already being punished. He's been bad. Very bad." Drusilla's frown mellows into wide-eyed innocence. "Your hands are so warm, and your skin is so soft." Drusilla's eyes became beseeching. "Chains used to be fun. I promise not to bite."

Lilah doesn't believe her, but slides a hand over the silk blouse, giving a hard brush with her thumb over distended nipples. Drusilla moans.

"Come on, Dru. You can make him dream of you. Concentrate. Make him jealous that it's not his hands on you." In her own mind, Lilah sees Wesley opening a closet door and fondling an exposed breast almost cruelly...almost. The woman in the closet spits back, but Drusilla moans and sways as Lilah's hand slides under the silk, palming a small breast and pinching the nipple hard.

With deft fingers, Lilah pushes up an inconvenient skirt. The Wesley in her mind has no need of this action as he pushes his victim to the floor, forcing apart reluctant legs. His fingers meet resistance, dryness, while Lilah's find silky wetness.

"Tell me about Angel, Dru." -- **"Tell me how sorry you are, Justine, for slicing my throat."**

Both women moan, one in pain, the other in pleasure, but neither speaks. Their tormenters both move skilled fingers in rough embraces, repeating their demands. The women in chains frown.

"So cold, so dark. He's like an animal." -- **"What you deserved, working for that animal."**

"Tell me!" Lilah and Wesley insist in unison, but they only receive inarticulate moans, both deriving from pleasure, one tinged with mourning and the other tinged with broken pride.

Fingers pump roughly, feeding unspoken needs. Demands for answers continue, but the women in chains keep their secrets and their apologies locked up tight, even as their bodies writhe in abandon, releasing their pleasure.

No closer to Angel, Lilah makes arrangements to dispose of the fruitless lead.. But the next day, a report will be placed on her desk, instead of an envelope full of dust.

'Three operatives dead. Target escaped on plane bound for Texas.'

Later on, she will go to Wesley's apartment and imagine what goes on behind the closet deadbolt.

~end~

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: Written for the Lilah-fic-athon. Nov 30, 2003
> 
> Huge thanks and smooches to Magpie and Violet for the last minute betas


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